• Solo • Let's Get Down to Business

[Qit'ria]

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Cylus 1st


Qit'ria trudged through the snow, having just left Cally's dropping off the meats she'd gathered recently in her hunts. She was a bit more chipper now that she found a way to sleep. After having discovered that her sores disappeared while in her mouse form, she found that it was easier to sleep like that. And it was actually warmer that way, with the fur, buried among her furred covers. All in all, it was much cozier, and she was so thankful that she could finally sleep again. It really made every day that much better.

She was wrapped up in her cloak, finding the cold not so bad these days. Perhaps she was just getting used to it. But she felt invigorated now that she was well rested. She passed through the market square, “Oi! Lass! Lassie! Yes, you!”

Qit looked up to see the man she occasionally sold furs to, waving at her, beckoning her over. That was… odd. No one ever actually wanted to talk to her. She slogged through the snow toward him, her face impatient, to hear what he wanted. The only reason she was bothering now was because he was a customer, and a good one. He even bought the junk furs she brought, said even poor people need to be warm.

“No need to look so sour lass, Ol’ Varg has a special request for ya.”

Qit’ria cocked her head to the side, curious now. He had always just bought what she’d brought.

“I need some beaver pelts. As many as you can get your hands on. Hunters ain’t bringing them in for some reason, and the one merchant that had them stockpiled just left for Rynmere.“

Qit’ria didn’t know this word in Common, “What mean beaver? I not know this.”

The man chuckled, “Right right, your Common is a bit… well incomplete. They are those furry bastards that chew on trees. Big flat tail, giant front teeth, swimming all around the streams and rivers and such? Find me some of those and we’ll make a killing.”

Qit’ria considered it, and nodded at the man. “I find you big beavers. Lots beavers.”

And with that, she made the day long trek back to Sweetvine Woods.

[Qit'ria]

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She woke up bright and early and refreshed the next day, her mouse ears twitching, seeking any sounds that might seem foreign. Everything seemed normal. Safe. She crawled out from the furs, seeing Kashehino there staring at her. She slipped through the legs of the panther, and out of the tent. And there, she changed back to her perfect Sev’ryn form.

She plucked her clothes from the line near the fire pit and pulled them on, shivering out the cold bite of this Cylus weather. Time to find these beavers. The man, Ol’ Varg, had said they chew on trees and live in rivers and streams. She was fairly certain she knew what creatures he’d meant.

She grabbed her weapons, geared up, and made her way to the river she kept her camp on. She slid down the bank, her bare feet breaking through the very thin ice at the edge of the river. The huntress pulled a javelin from her back, finding comfort in the trusty weapon. She hopped from rock to rock along the shallow river, grateful the water still flowed in the middle, ice left to the banks.

Kashehino leapt from rock to rock just as Qit’ria did, and should anyone actually happen to witness such an event, they’d see a smile on the huntress’ face. She wasn’t even concerned about the beavers at that particular moment, she’d find them, she knew that. It was just nice to be.. To be her again.

Going down river, occasionally the river had shelves that dropped off, and Qit’ria approached the first of these. Looking out over the wide, stony waterway, she saw what she’d seen before, not realizing what it might’ve been at the time. There, in the middle, built around the next shelf drop off, was a massive pile of sticks and logs.

The first time she’d seen it, it was in passing. She figured it was from a flood, washed all the debris and got stuck there. But after hearing what the man had said, she suspected it to be something more. Qit’ria stopped her leaping, taking a more roundabout route, arcing way out around the stick pile.

She reached the far end of the shelf, and slipped down, fighting through the chill of all the spray and splash of the water. She crouched down on a large rock, wrapping her cloak about her body, and she stayed there, watching, waiting. She had to assume that her approach was somehow detected, she hadn’t exactly been sneaky, but that was fine. Life moved on for all creatures.

So she stayed there, watching the stick pile. It took nearly a full break, her legs cramping up, before something happened. She watched a furred head pop up from the water. Not at the stick pile, but rather close to her. She followed its path. It climbed up a gentle slope up the bank, and disappeared into the woods. That was a beaver. She was sure of it.

She assumed that it could swim from the stick pile to the bank completely underwater. She continued to wait, figuring they didn’t need to travel far or long from the home, with all the wood around. She saw several others pop up around the river, and disappear up various embankments.

[Qit'ria]

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Qit'ria slipped through the cold water over to the icy embankment, using it to help keep her hidden from the woods, as well as provide some mild cover from the wind. She put away her javelin, trading it out for the heavier spear. She rotated it around so the butt end was outward. If the merchant wanted a really good pelt from a small creature, she'd need to keep the fur as intact as possible. She crouched down, holding her spear up at an angle and waited. And waited. Switched hand holds because her arms were getting tired. And waited.

And finally, the beaver was returning down the small path, wobbling along. Once it was right in front of her, she struck. She swung the spear down heavily, the butt striking it in the back hard. The beaver squeaked in surprise and pain and went to wobble for the water. Qit'ria thwapped it once more right on the rump. It's hind legs were dragging now, as it pulled itself toward the element that would bring it safety. One more thump right in the skull and it stopped moving altogether. As easy as stealing nuts from a squirrel.

She bent down and picked it up by its wide, flat tail, waiting a small trickle of blood dribble out of its mouth and into the water. It was such a fat little thing. But those teeth on it were big. Definitely would be good for eating wood. She shook it a few times, to make sure it was well and truly dead, and it certainly seemed to be. Satisfied with this tactic, she decided to try it again. She tied the beaver with some rope and hung from a tree branch over the river to keep it safe from other predators while she continued her hunt.

Choosing a different spot, she decided to count how many beavers she could see living in this massive stick pile. Over the course of a break, she counted about twelve, before she realized that she might be double counting them. There were more in there than she'd expected. But she also didn't wish to kill them all, right this moment. Save some to make baby beavers, and have more for later. Greed was a thing for city people. Out here in the wilds, one had to respect nature, give back and never take too much.

Qit'ria had managed to kill four beavers that day. She skinned them quickly, setting the meat over her smoking fire, cleaned the hides in the icy water, and tied all but one to her spear, which she held over her shoulders, arms draped over it lazily as they hung like thieves sent to the gallows. She'd saved their blood as she skinned them, pouring it into an empty water skin. She kept the bones, particularly the teeth to herself, stashing them in her cart. She'd carve a totem when she got back, she needed to ponder what to make. She grabbed her pack from her camp, and began the hike back to the city, planning to walk through the evening and night, and arrive in the morning. Kashehino accompanied her, the ever faithful companion.

As they traveled, the ghostly panther mused, "Darling, do you think those other beavers would talk to you if you Became one of them?"

Qit'ria had been pondering that exact same thought, "Probably. I would Become one, so there'd be no difference."

"Yeah but we don't know how the talk. Other than. Squeak. You'd have to learn their language."

"And how they move, what they do."

Qit'ria knew she was going to try that. She realized that if she Became enough animals within Sweetvine, she could befriend them, be family. She could not only learn from them, but use them to help keep tabs on her territory, and the trade off would be to let those she is friends with live. To her, this was a solid plan. After all, she couldn't patrol the entire woods herself, chasing off trespassers. She smiled. Yes, that is exactly what she would do.

She made her way to the merchant who'd tasked her to get the beaver pelts, and while it was only three, the man was elated. She ignored his thanks, received his pay, and was about to leave town, and head back home under the dark, Cylus sky, when something caught her eye. A man over at a table was carving bones, and was doing so with a whole variety of tools. Walking up to him, she just watched, and he didn't seem to mind. He seemed to be making little figurines. He used tiny hammers, chisels, brushes, and other tools as he worked. When he finished, she spoke.

"I do that. No have good tool like you."

She showed him the necklace she'd carved from her finger bone, and the bracelet from the aye-aye mouse bones. It was crude work, but still, she was proud. The man smiled and grabbed a box from behind his table. "Tell ya what. Seventy-five golds, and you can have this kit here, and I'll even through in the stool I use. You'll do all the sculpting you could ever want."

Qit'ria didn't bother to negotiate. She knew what she wanted and had more than enough money to get it, since she rarely bought anything. She handed him the coins, "Keep stool. You old. Me no need." The man scowled and pushed the kit into her hands, and waved her off. She made her way home with a spring in her step. Sometimes cities had nice things. Sometimes. Rarely.

[Pegasus]

Qit

Overview

Mass beaver slaughter and craziness from our resident Sweetwine resident! I so enjoy Qit and I love the relationship with the Panther. Which makes me doubly sorry for how mean I am. But yes, sometimes cities have nice things! Loved this thread - lovely writing.

Points

XP: 10

Renown: 5 (Beaver-provider)

Loot

From this point onwards, the Ghostly Panther who travels with Qit will start making more and more reckless suggestions. Think of it as though the Panther is a sort of repressed PTSD hallucination which is starting to break down but is, in fact, fighting to stay. PM me with any questions! Beaver Hide x1
Beaver Bones Set x4
Beaver Blood (half water skin full)
Beaver Meat 10lbs

Knowledge

Endurance: Standing in an icy river for an extended period
Stealth: Holding still for long periods of time to go unnoticed
Hunting: Recognizing beaver trails
Hunting: Beaver kill
Polearms: Spear: The butt of the weapon for clubbing
Polearms: Spear: Strike multiple areas for maximum damage